


Cold Bones

by BeaSox



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt, Hurt Newt Scamander, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Queenie Goldstein/Jacob Kowalski, Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Other, Protective Tina Goldstein
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 22:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14657589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeaSox/pseuds/BeaSox
Summary: "I'm not hungry"Newt struggles to stay afloat, weighed down by childhood trauma and a guilty conscience. After developing an eating disorder, Tina admits him to Hidden Feather Treatment Center. How much will it take for Newt to be content with the sacrifices that he has made?





	Cold Bones

"How many calories are in this?"

Jacob frowned and shot his best friend a puzzled look, setting the glass top onto its case of sugary pasteries. Newt and Jacob were in his bakery, the air reeking of stale icing and fresh bread that clung to Newt's thin dress shirt.   
Jacob shrugged, "I'm not sure, I mean it has frosting... and stuff. I can't imagine that anything in it could be remotely good for your health, though."

Jacob watched Newt chew on his bottom lip anxiously and set the flakey Niffler-shaped pastery onto his pale plate. Numbers took up the limited space in his mind, fogging it up and making his head throb. He stared at it somwhat longingly, tearing off a piece and placing it beside the pastery. Jacob noticed his sullen cheeks and ghostly pale skin that only complimented that dark circles underneath his eyes. His coat no longer fit him right, and his thin wrists poked out of loose sleeves.

"You shouldn't be worried about calories, Newt. Are you on a diet or something, you're thinner than I recall."

Newt looked up, panic briefly flashing in his milky emerald eyes before it disappeared and was replaced with shock. The tiny golden bell over the bakery door jangled and announced a familiar woman's entrance. Newt quickly wrapped the pastery in a napkin and hide it behind a display case of Occamy croissants.

"Good morning," Tina greeted them, leaning on the counter beside Newt. She offered Newt a bright smile, who gave her a shaky one in return. He was close to being caught. Too close.

He ignored Jacob's confusion and possible concern as he focused on slowing his breathing. It was okay now. He hadn't taken a bite, the buttery calories couldn't taint him from here. He was stronger than this; he wasn't going to let all of his hard work go up in flames in the hopes of pleasing a friend.

"Are you hungry?" The question posed as a simple and harmless one, made Newt's heartbeat quicken again. "I was thinking that we could all go to the pizza kitchen, once Queenie gets off of work."

"Sure," Jacob said, both turning into Newt's direction for his answer.

"I-I"m not hungry. I already a-ate," Newt lied through his teeth, guilt and relentless hunger jabbing him in the gut. He prayed that Jacob would not open his mouth, and that Tina would not see his ribs that jutted out from his pale skin underneath his dress shirt.

"Okay," Tina pulled Newt gently into a hug as Jacob shot him an accusing look that Newt struggled to ignore. A million thoughts flooded and clogged Newt's mind as relaization slammed into him: she was touching him. He had carefully avoided any physical contact with anyone in fear of someone feeling how fragile he had become. He could feel her tense up, running her hands slowly along his back and up to his scrawny shoulders. She pulled back, biting her rosy lips and avoiding his eyes. She waited until Jacob rushed to pretend to busy himself with a bag of flour before dropping her voice to a low whisper.   
"You've lost weight."

"No."

"You weren't this..." Newt could tell thst she was looking for the polite way of putting it, but was helpless. She probably saw him as weak and disgusting, but he finally felt free. He finally knew how to fulfill the punishment that he deserved for being such a screw up in life, a way to prove what he was capable of. "...thin before recently, I mean I didn't truly notice before but..."

Tina dropped her voice even lower, her eyes soft and sorrowful.   
"Is this about what happened?"

Newt knew what she was referring to, but tried to seem unbothered and innocent as he nearly choked on the lump in his throat. "No. I told you that I was over it. I'm okay, really." He forced a weak smile that made his jaw hurt at the foreign gesture. He couldn't recall the last time that he genuinely smiled. Or felt joy. The only emotion that greeted him was self loathing and flashbacks to that day. He still saw the the jagged claws of the Nundu slicing through the man's flesh. The Nundu had escaped because of him, he should have remembered to keep his case locked. The police had ruled it as a random animal attack, which made him hate himself more for not recieving a punishment. He would be sure to inflict the punishment on himself.

 

"I suppose I have, I don't know," he mumbled, hoping to come off as nonchalant as possible on the matter. Hopefully she would drop it.

"Okay," she turned to Jacob to initiate a meaningless conversation that he tuned out. He exhaled in relief, knowing that everything that he had worked so hard for had come so close to breaking. He wouldn't let anyone get that close again. He restricted himself more as a prompt punishment for almost ruining his plans, only accepting a glass of ice water as his meal for the rest of the day. He sat in the dark alone as he did many night, sleep from months of sleepless nights tugging at his eyelids. He would not give in.

I will not give in. I will not give in.

~

The hunger was the worst, at first. The pangs gradually subsided and became less painful, but they still consuned him when he least expected it. This feeling was a weakness; a sickness that would tempt him until he gave into the evil that ran through his icy veins. His mission was so close, yet so far. He wasn't good enough. He wasn't thin enough. He lifted up his wrinkled dress shirt, as he never cared enough to fold his clothes anymore, and grimaced in disgust. He felt his fat fold over his waistband and saw a waste of a human being taking up all of the space for those who deserved it. He was not worthy. He had done something bad, now he was going to pay for it. If this had happened way back then, his mother wouldn't have let him eat. He pinched his stomach until he could feel the ache of a bruise even in the welcoming dark of the crisp night. He leaned back, closing his eyes as he felt his body settle into being one step closer to shutting down forever.

I will not give in.  
~

Tina seemed to grow more suspicious as Newt avoided suddenly began her and his friends. She tried to convince herself that she couldn't quite put her finger on what was wrong, but she knew deep down what was going on. Queenie had been the one to point out his sullen cheekbones and collarbone that jutted purposefully out of his pale skin. His clothes were visibly loose and baggy against his frame, forcing him to reassemble a toddler wearing the clothes of a grown man. She tried not to think about his appearance because it made her stomach twist into unpleasant knots, or hoe many trips he took to the bathroom after eating a few rations from his small plate.

She had no idea on how to approach him, the encounter at Jacob's bakery a few weeks ago had gone poorly, as she had eventually cowered down to his reassuring lies of being okay. She shouldn't have believed him. She was an awful friend. She was an awful, horrible person.

She decided that enough was enough as guilt and fear slammed into her like a brick wall after she hadn't heard from him in a while. This made her very anxious, and she wondered if he was eating at all anymore. She had knocked on his front door, and waited a response impatiently, fully ready to blow the door off with her wand if needed.

"Tina...?" He answered the door, mumuring groggily despite it being late afternoon.

"Hi, is this a bad time?" She asked with plastic cheerfulness, them bother aware of the fact that she wasn't set on leaving either way. "Are you tired?"

"A bit, yes. I haven't been able to sleep much lately."

"How come?"

"I d-don't know.." he was almost shocked at how easy the lie rolled off his tongue, as he knew that the reason that he was having trouble sleeping was due to the fact that he was terribly freezing. He was cold all of the time, which he mentally added to the negatives of his new and better lifestyle.

She brushed past him into the apartment, and he shut the door slowly behind them. She glanced about, unsure what she was looking for exactly, and snapped her focus back to Newt. He was staring at the floor, his hair a frazzled mess. She longed to reach up and smooth it down, but knew that she had to be somewhat stern with him now.

"Did you have lunch?" The question slid from her lips in a slightly more accusing manner than she had hoped, but swallowed her pride as she enter his cozy kitchen. She leaned over the cool marble counters, studying his panicked expression.

"I just...woke up.." he stammered hopelessly, his wide eyes betraying his facade and crumbling stone walls of lies.

"Okay, breakfast or lunch, then?" She began opening his cabinents with her wand, the cream doors swinging open in a flurry of magic. She turned, knowing that she had cornered him just as she had planned. He stood frozen for a few seconds, then forced him self to recover as if defrosting in the summer heat.

"I'm fine, I'm not really hungry."

"Oh, come on. I'm here, Newt. I could easily make you something," she insisted, tucking a strand of silky dark hair behind her ear.

"O-Okay."

She prepared him a bowl of steaming oatmeal in what seem like record time to Newt, who wore beads of perspiration on his forehead. He ran through scenarios and question dodging for so long, but not once had he thought of her being this close on his trail. He quarreled with himself in the dark every night over how to keep her as far away as possible, one of the most crucial part of his routine. It fell swiftly behind observing himself pointedly in the mirror long enough for him to seem distorted and too big to fit into the mirror's skinny frame.

"Eat up," Tina said sweetly, as if it weren't a direct command. She set a spoon next to the bowl as he shifted in his seat.

His eyes scanned over the contents of the bowl, each oat appearing equally menacing and unappetizing as the next. He ran the numbers, of course, and came to the quick conclusion that he had no clue on the damn calories in oatmeal. A fresh batch of panic welled in the pit of his stomach, which was empty and growled furiously at the smell of the meal. He finally picked up the spoon timidly, his hand trembling as he brought it to the bowl in movement so slow that his arm protested at being raised for a long time. All of the grueling and demanding weeks of self control would be thrown away at the bat of an eye. He didn't deserve to eat, to steal it from those who deserved it more than him. He thought of what his mother would say, and his stomach shrunk into itself.

He didn't deserve anything!

His entire arm was shaking now, and he lowered it. "You can't make me do it, you can't make me eat."

That was that, Tina had backed off just as she had scolded herself for doing the last time and gave up after gently begging him to take at least two bites. He ate all of the oatmeal as soon as she left, shoving two fingers into the back of his throat immediately to empty into the sink. He washed the limited contents of his stomach down the drain, wondering what she could think of him now. Would he finally be a poster boy? The perfect son? Would he finally fulfill his quest to make up for what happened that day with the Nundu? What if starving wasn't enough?

~

Newt found himself at the starched cloth of a table in a candlelit restaurant, which he found ironic. Ever since the oatmeal incident, Tina treated him carefully and tried to casually remind him to eat. She even offered to cook for him on countless occasions, in which he almost thought of laughing bitterly. She didn't understand, no one did. They couldn't comprehend his mission.

Jacob and Queenie were aware of what was going on, as anyone with the gift of vision could tell that he was rapidly losing weight. Neither had brought it up personally with him, which he was sure was all Tina's doing and which he was thankful for. He even had started cooking easy meals to toss half of it out then to shove into glass countainers as fake leftovers for Tina to find. He figured that what he was doing was quite beautiful, as his sturdy routine was now a solid part of his life. It was him now. He was nothing without it.

Newt ordered the largest meal on the oddly expensive menu, a grilled steak with steamed broccoli, mashed potatoes, and a choice of a drink. He chose a soda without thinking, struggling to ignore the attack of unknown, high numbers that could be contracted by simply thinking of such a disgustingly sugary beverage. He basked in the approving looks from his friends, their incompetent minds wrapping over the concept that he was miraculously all better. He barely chewed as he inhaled his meal, and three ordered free refills. Tina chewed on her lip and watched him every time he raised the fork to his mouth, and chugged the bubbly drink down.

They left the establishment no more than an hour later, the frosty air biting at Nest's exposed skin. He felt as if he was going to burst any moment, he had gone overboard. He couldn't keep all of his meal down much longer, his stomach was already screaming at him. He trailed behind the group, unnoticed as he crept towards a bush beside the sidewalk.

He forced himself to throw up as he bent over the scratchy leaves of the bush. Tina witnessed this when she had found him missing, and rushed to his aid in a fussy whirl. "Newt, Newt!"

She placed her hand on his back and knelt close to him to meet his eyes. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, his head throbbing as a result of the abuse he was constantly inflicting on his own body each day. He was dehydrated and malnourished, but he didn't care one bit. "Yes."

"You can't just make yourself do that, Newt! Is that why you gorged yourself at dinner, to purge as a punishment? Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Stop being so stubborn! You won't confide in me or ask for help, even though I am fully here for you. I know that things may be rough right now, but please just bear with me, Newt. Please don't keep hurting yourself like this. I could deal with the bruises that you gave yourself, but this is too far! You need help, Newt. A lot of it," she found that this could be taken as harsh, and quickly added, "I can help you. I promise."

"I don't need your help, Tina. I'm perfectly fine, actually better than ever."

"You look terrible, Newt," Queenie offered, her eyes glassy with tears and unmasked worry. Jacob was at her side, one hand on her shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed together in a simliar expression.

"I knew that you guys wouldn't understand! You don't understand how hard I've been working for so long! If you guys won't support me, then I don't need to ever see you guys ever again!" Raw emotion rose to the surface and he felt hot tears slide down his cheeks, bony cheekbones acting as barriers. He swayed as he stumbled upright, a familiar bout of dizziness washing over him without warning. He had felt this on several occasions in which he had fainted, and he fumbled to find his wand before he further embarrassed himself. He stared evenly at Tina, who blinked. "Goodbye, Tina."

"Newt, don't-----" Tina's plea was too late as he had apperated and was gone in shards of deep grey.

They returned to Newt's apartment, helping themselves in with Tina's key. They sat in a heavy silence waiting for Newt to reappear or for the front door to swing open.

Please be okay, Newt. I love you.

Three hours passed and Tina sat down on the olive sofa after pacing while ignoring her younger sister's reassuring voice dripping with false hope. He was upset and alone somewhere, or worse. Dead. He could be dead! He could have jumped off the docks, or some tall building somewhere in the city. She saw his face, lifeless and eerily peaceful. She drummed her knuckles on her knees, briefly squeezing her eyes shut and sighing out loud. Tears escaped from her eyes, and she wiped them away with her sleeve.

"Goodbye, Tina"  
He had said goodbye. He was never coming back, she had officially lost him.

"Dammit, Newt!" She aburptly hopped off the sofa, causing Jacob to jump up. She was sure that they were all on edge, and felt bad for leaving them out of the loop as she grabbed her wand. "I'm going to look for him."

A sudden whoosh of magic caught their attention, and Newt's unstable body crashed to the floor.

"Newt!" She races to where he was hunched over his scrawny frame, his wrists thin enough for her to loop her fingers around with ease. He attempted to lift himself up from a pitiful heap, but failed and also required Queenie's assistance. Jacob watched in horror as each of them fussed over Newt, the watery look back into his eyes.

"I-I need...to throw u-up...I had----" Newt reached a clamy hand to the wastebin next to the spot where his head rested. Tina clasped it, mumuring to him in hopes of comforting him.

"No, you don't need to. You'll be okay."

"N-No...I had three sodas....and s-steak. I'm failing, T-T-Tina, I'm fa-failing at everything..." his voice cracked, echoing about the walls of the apartment. He was bawling now, his entire body trembling. "I'm g-going to ruin everything. I d-don't know the calories i-in...."

"You're not failing at anything, honey. Nothing is going to hurt you now," Queenie whispered.

 

Newt shut his eyes, and months of sleep took over his weak body. Tina gasped, checking his pulse.

"He needs help, Teen. We need to take him to the hospital," Queenie said, sliding Newt's arm onto her shoulder to hoist him up. "He needs to talk to someone, too."

"I know," Tina took his other arm and slung it over her own shoulder, as Jacob took Queenie's hand in his to join them on their trip to the hospital. Neither wanted to discuss how light Newt was, but there was an unspoken feeling of blame that they all shared.

~

"Hidden Feather Treatment Center"  
seemed like a silly name for an even more awful center to Newt, but he assumed that feathers were meant to be soft and comforting. He arrived mid morning on a Wednesday, suppressing many yawns and eye rolls at each happy slogan shoved at him by nurses. He had been shipped to Hidden Feather immediately after being discharged from the hospital, as they did not have specialists that could offer him 'the help he needed' present there. This was Tina's decision, and he had no other choice. At least he could succeed in avoiding her here. She had threatened that if he tried to pull anything that they would shove a tube down his throat and force feed him without hesitation. This frightened him a bit, as that would definitely be the end to his plans. Who did they think they were, to choose if he was worthy to eat? Pathetic.

He met with his threapist, Ms. Araline, was a woman with a perfect oval face and the smoothest skin that he had ever seen. She seemed to have a knack for makeup like Queenie, her lips radiant and crimson. It reminded Newt of blood. He imagined blood oozing from the man's slashed skin the day of the Nundu attack, and he felt an itch crawl up his spine, which Tina told him was visible through his skin.

"How are you feeling today, Mr. Scamander?" Mrs. Araline asked, a caring smile causing her freckles to bunch up above her button nose.

"Well. How are you?" He asked flatly, his mind clearly elsewhere.

"I'm good, thank you. Today were here----may I call you Newt before I continue?"

"Yes."

"Grand. Newt, we are here today to talk about you, and you only. This is not a proper session, of course, but you will have one later today. Your schedule can be found on your pillow in your cabin. There you will meet your roomate----"

"Roomate?"

She nodded, her crimson lips turning up as if having to share a room with a stranger while in a center for crazies was the ultimate vacation getaway. "Is there a problem?"

"N-No," Newt mumbled, focusing on the carpeted floor. He wasn't fond of being forced to speak to others, it had taken him so long to warm up to his current friends now. Not that he was here to make friends. He didn't quite have a plan to not give into treatment and still get out, but he had plenty of time to formulate it.

Ms. Araline rambled on about how she and the rest of his treatment team was there for him, and that he was to meet with them tomorrow. He learned the rules on sharp objects and contact with the outside world as he stared out the window at the trees outside. He found the rule against harmful tools ignorant, as he could easily pinch himself until he bled. The bruises under his dress shirt stung as they were brought to his attention and he winced.

"We don't have to go over anymore now, I know that the first day can be very overwhelming. I tell this to all of my patients: many of times the fear of food and its consumption is due to some form of trauma or bad memory connected to food itself. Do you believe that this may be true to you? Do you know what may have caused you to feel the need to become bullimic, Newt?"

He didn't respond, afraid that once her began speaking that he would weep, or even worse, that he would tell her everything.

"Are you not sure, Newt? Because that is normal, and it is perfectly okay. We can resume later today if you'd please. You can go get settled into your room now, dinner is at 6:45 tonight. Your roomate will fill you in on any last minute questions," she didn't seem fazed at the slightest by his silence, her usual perky voice maintaining its upbeat tone. He could practically imagine her frolicking about the woods with a dozen bluebirds on her shoulders.

 

"I killed someone."

Ms. Araline tensed up for half of a second, recovering unnaturally fast in a way that only therapists could do. "Go on, Newt."

"I own...many beasts. Like at a zoo, I suppose. It's rather h-hard to explain, actually. Anyways, sometime this year one escaped without my knowledge. It got out into the city while my friends and I were looking..."

Mrs. Araline seemed intrigued, any signs of branding him off as insane not present as she bobbed her head along to prove that she was in fact listening intently. "What happened next, Newt?"

"It a-attacked a man, killed him. It killed him, and I could have stopped it. I killed him!"

"This beast that you owned is responsible, am I correct? You can't be held accountable for the actions of a wild animal, but I am sorry ro hear that you blame yourself. You seem to have a kind and loving heart, to care so much for the loss of a stranger. I admire you for that, Newt," she leaned foward over her oak desk, her eyes sincere and kind. "Is this where you believe that your eating disorder stems from?"

"N-Not exactly.."

"Where do you believe that it stems from?"

"I don't w-want to talk about this right now."

~

Newt was placed in Cabin 1c, and soon was shuffling into the confined, windowless space. Two freshly made beds were on either side of the room, two tall closets at the foot of each bed. He assumed that his bed was the one without the mindless clutter, and flopped down onto the mattress. He closed his eyes, hoping that his roomate never returned to the cabin. He just wanted to be alone. The door creaked open, and Newt sat up expectantly as a thin boy swaggered in. He was young, most likely barely in his twenties. His biege shirt sagged from his skin, bones poking through the flimsy material.

"Oh, I forgot. Hey, you're my new roomate, right?" The boy asked, collecting the clutter in his arms.

"Yes."

"Neat," the boy responded dryly with his back towards Newt. Newt could make out each bone straining against the ghostly flesh of him, and felt a shiver of envy cast over him. He was probably anorexic. It wasn't fair, he had been working so hard for so long, and he was left with a lousy title like bulimic. He suddenly felt self concious of his lack of progress on his mission, looping his fingers around his wrist to comfort himself. He had a long way to go.

"I'm Rodney, by the way. It's Newt, right?"

Newt nodded, leaning against the wall. "At dinner, do they make us...eat?"

"Yes, at least they try. Nearly all newcomers refuse, but give in after a while. You are here to get better, right? Might as well accept the help."

"I didn't chose to be here."

"Sure, but if you remain stubborn for a long time, they'll force feed you through a tube. Everyone here at least eats small portions to avoid that fate," Rodney sat across the room from him, his muddy eyes conveying his young age.

"Okay."

"You have Ms. Araline for therapy?"

"Yes."

"Did she tell you that crap on trauma? She tells everyone that, isn't it utterly stupid to assume that some awful memory is the cause of someone getting an eating disorder? I started purging to lose a bit of weight as I was chubby last year, but went overboard. She keeps grilling me on some terrible childhood memory that I'm suppressing, but my condition is far more simple, I guess," Rodney shifted until he was laying flat on his back, his bony arms propped behind his head.

Newt's mind wandered to his own childhood, his stomach dropping at the memories of his life in shambles. He closed his eyes, letting himself get asorbed into the tainted memory. He remembered sitting alone in the dark, his stomach growling loudly as he called for his mother. She never answered. She came less frequently when he did, but he prayed that just one time she would have an ounce of sympathy. She would restrict food from him as punishment for petty things like accidentally knocking over a ceramic vase that had been in the family for many generations. Sometimes he hadn't even done anything remotely wrong and he was locked in his cold room with nothing to aid his growing hunger with. He would lift up his shirt to observe how thin he was getting, and finally understood. His mother never accepted him because he was taking up too much room for her to breathe. He was too big for her to exhale, but now he was going to make her proud. He pinched his skin when he suspected that he had gained weight, wearing the purple bruises like badges of honor.

He never quite understood why he was the least favorite son, Theseus was the handsome poster boy. Eventually, when he did something bad without his mother finding out, he would scrape the contents of the meal into the trash beside his wooden desk. His mother had passed away when he was eighteen, leaving him numb and lonely. She had never told him that she loved him, and he never was able to make her care for him. He made it his sole mission to make her proud. He didn't deserve to eat. Him and this thing that consumed him was latched on forever. It was sucking the life out of him slowly, but it felt good to make his mother happy.

 

~  
Newt refused dinner and distanced himself from the others in his cabin group, stabbing a pea with his plastic fork at an empty table. The others giggled and focused on shoving the food down their throats, and he couldn't imagine how much of a punishment that he'd need to inflict if he gave in. He ignored Rodney's wave from the neighboring table, a chorus of chatty voices bursting from their direction. He didn't need any friends. He thought of his friends back in New York, digging his nails into his skin. Tina. He missed her already. He wanted to lay in her arms as she stroked his hair whispering, "You're okay, you're going to be okay."

The next morning he was sitting at one of the splintering picnic benches during morning break, he had just forced down a few sips of orange juice and two spoonfuls of hashbrowns (without ketchup). The nurse that monitored his lonely table seemed to believe that he was truly making progress and he now chuckled at her ignorance. As if he would give up so easily.

"Something funny?" Ms. Araline was grinning with her fierce, cotton candy pink lips.

"N-No."

"Well, I'm glad that you appear to be enjoying your own company. Good morning, Newt. How was your night?"

"Well."

"How did you sleep?"

"Well."

"You met your roomate, Rodney, yes? Do you two get along?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you eat meals with him and his friends? Your cabin mates are very nice people. Trust me on that," she chirped, flipping open a deep green file. His file.

"How...how much do I weigh?"

"Why do you want to know that, Newt?"

He swallowed, his throat dry; the orange juice had been his first drink in weeks. Why did she think that he wanted to know, just for fun? Clearly he wanted to know how much he was failing. The numbers fogged up his mind, every other thought being pushed out.

"Is it to know how much more you must complete to fulfill my goal?"

"You know nothing of my goal."

"Enlighten me," she leaned foward and gazed at him with eyes that made him nervous. He had never felt that someone cared about what he was saying, but the genuine look in her eyes threw him off.

"Nothing. It doesn't matter," he mumbled, squeezing his heavy eyes shut. He had gotten no sleep last night.

"We don't have to talk, if you'd prefer to..." her voice trailed off as she shuffled through the many files in her bag. She pulled out a sketchbook and slid it towards him. "Art therapy. It helps some patients, give it a try, okay? If it turns out to not be for you, it'll be okay. Make an effort, just like you have been doing. You have already began to eat more at mealtime, I've noticed from the chart from Nurse Susan."

Had it been that noticeable? He had to take down the act a few notches, what would his mother think? He mumured a thanks, using the sketchbook as a pillow. He didn't fall asleep, the sun burning his back as he waited for her to get bored and leave. She stayed there for the rest of the time given for their session, and he opened one eye to see her resting her head on her arms, eyes closed peacefully. He tried to be furious at her determination to ruin his life, but he felt a little safer at her presence.

"The mashed potatoes. I never ate them."

"Hm?"

"I never ate the mashed potatoes that my mum prepared, because it had too many calories. I couldn't take the chance. I would always scrape it into the trash, and then I would give myself several bruises for it. It used to be my favorite meal as a young child, but I found as I grew older and more neglected, I could only see the evil in things. I don't...understand why all of these memories are returning now, my life is far better now....I have people that care for me."

"You mentioned a man dying because of one of your animals on your first day, maybe that is why? You believe that you did sonething horrible and you know no other way to cope than to take it out on yourself," she raised her head, her voice less muffled and drowsy to his ears. "You only know that when you mess up that you must be punished. Just like your mother did."

He felt rage boil deep inside him, feeling required to defend his mother. She wasn't some evil enemy, she was possibly his savior of some sorts. Like a guardian angel. "She wasn't the enemy, I was the one ruining everything for everyone."

She didn't respond after a while, and he felt a single tear escape onto the tabletop. He was afraid to close his eyes, in fear of seeing that room again or that man's face streaked in his own blood. He probably had a loving family. They were probably waiting for him to come home that night.

"You don't deserve to be punished, Newt."

He wondered how someone could lie directly to his face and yet sound so sincere.  
~

Newt gave in at the end of his last week, dropping his tray on the occupied table from his cabin.

"Hey, Newt," Rodney grinned, punching him lightly in the arm. "Guys, this is my new roomate."

"Hi, I heard that you don't fancy talking much?" The only girl in his cabin greeted him, raising a fork to her lips. Her roomate had recently got discharged and they were to get another new edition to the close knit group soon. She was definitely the youngest out of all of them, but clearly still an adult as she was at his treatment center. She was also the most healthy in the eyes of the nurses, her bones hidden by soft flesh.Newt shrugged, taking a tiny sip of orange juice, the acidic droplets burning his throat. The other two boys were a bit quieter, each fitting into the bullimic category as well. Rodney was the ultimate goal, and the person to aspire to become. He had achieved a better, shinier title.

That night, he pulled out his sketchbook and sketched a room. He closed his eyes to get the full view of this memorable room, his childhood prison.

~

Ms. Araline rambled on about being proud of his 'progress' as the two sat on their usual picnic bench after he had met with his treatment team on his diet plan. His dietitian and physician had formed strict requirements for him to gain weight fast. Ms. Araline had insisted that his new sketch was some priceless piece of art, not some sloppy hunk of rubbish that he had completed at 5 am.

"This is beautiful, Newt. Really," she breathed, and he felt himself flush hotly at the appraisal. "I'll tape this to the communal wall in your cabin. Thank you for trying. I saw that you started eating meals with Rodney and your other cabin mates. That's wonderful."

"It's not a big deal."

"It is. I'm proud of you," she noticed that her close attention made him fidgety, and changed the subject. "What is this sketch of? Your room at home?"

He shook his head. Dammit. He didn't plan on explaining it. He felt his breath catch in the back of his throat, panic rising in his chest. He couldn't talk about this. Not with her. Not with anyone. They would never understand!

"Childhood bedroom?" She pressed on.

He found himself nodding despite his hesitation, and cursed himself silently. He was a fool, getting himself trapped in the sticky web of her bait.

"What caused you to draw this particular room?"

He shrugged.

"Did you have any remarkable memories here? Pleasant ones? Maybe bad ones?"

"My mum used to starve me in this very room when I d-did something wrong. She would m-make sure that I felt unloved."

Ms. Araline nodded, her gaze set on him. "Did she lock you in there?" She tapped her manicured nail on the dramatically large lock on the bedroom door.

He nodded.

"For how long? Days, weeks, months?" Her tone was somehow even more gentle and smooth than before.

"Weeks. I sat in the dark, e-e-except to...t-to..."

"What did you do, Newt?"

"I would stare at the m-mirror and pinch myself until I bruised. Each time was for every time that I fa-failed.." He lifted up his shirt a bit, revealing the bruises on his chest. There were only thirty the last time that he had counted, but he had failed a lot recently. Ms. Araline bit her lip, her eyes brimming with concern.

"I don't want to talk anymore."

~  
On mail day, Newt recieved three letters, one from each person that he loved dearly. He tucked Jacob and Queenie's away under his pillow, but held Tina's in his hands. He was unable to gain enough courage to tear the envelope, tears welling in his eyes as he saw her face, angry and disappointed in him. Why was he destined to suffer? Whenever he made his mother happy, he was hurting someone else. Screw progress to his stupid mission. He wanted to make Tina unbelievably proud, and to hold her in his arms again. He just loved her so much. She was his everything.

He tore through his breakfast the next morning, and eating tiny bites of the rest of his meals. Nurse Susan beamed at him, and he felt as if she was about to reward him with a gold star any moment. He showed Ms. Araline the rest of his sketches from his two weeks at the center, and she taped each one to be seen by everyone in his cabin. Previously the only girl in their cabin, Talia, gained a new roommate. A shy girl named Tiffany was the brand new edition, fitting right into Newt's role as being the quiet one who seemed to want to be there the least. She was even worse off in the eyes of the nurses than Rodney, a feeding tube attatched to her nose. Newt felt for her, how she no longer had no say in her own mission. Newt tried not to dwell on his failures, as family visitaion was in a week and he would only be allowed to see Tina if he made great progress. Then, he could ressume his mission. He wondered how long he could keep this phony act up, until he was discharged and could go back to the freedoms of purging in his own home. No one standing in his way.

 

Everything was falling into place until her attended his first group therapy session. The initial activity had been postponed until Tiffany had arrived, to prevent her from missing out. She had come all the way from sunny California, most likely being on a plane for days in a row. Her feeding tube made her choppy breathing turn into a high pitched whistling noise and she blushed. She didn't seem proud to be the most accomplished one of the group, her attire resembling human clothes draped over a doll's tiny limbs.

Ms. Araline and the other therapist, Mr. Jones explained the purpose of the activity, but no one appeared to be listening besides Rodney, who nodded along with each spoken word. Mr. Jones pulled a white cloth off a basket of doughy bread rolls, the numbers simultaneously running through each patient's starved mind. Each dish was uncovered, chessy mac and cheese, a light option of a salad (with a fatty dressing, of course), and scrambled eggs. Mrs. Araline purposefuly removed the cloth from the last dish, buttery mash potatoes.

No.

He rushed out of the building, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the clipped grass. He couldn't do this. A hand touch him gently on his back and he knew who it was without looking up.

"I can't do it. I won't do it."

Ms. Araline smiled solemnly, kneeling beside him. "Things will get better."

"She doesn't why I'm doing this. She thinks that man's death wasn't my fault."

"Who are you referring to?"

"Tina."

He told her about Tina, the gorgeous and workaholic that she was. He'd been in loved with her for two years, and now he felt farther away from her than ever.

"There are many things that you feel that you need to say to Tina."

"Yes."

"If you keep these positive habits of sketching, interacting with your cabin mates, and nearly finishing all of your meals, you'll see her."

He kept that in mind as he fumbled to find Tina's letter from under his pillow he greedily ripped the envelope open, a paper cut slicing his skin. He shakily slid the letter out, ripping it to pieces before reading it. He did the same to the other two, all nonsense that was only a distraction. Mrs. Araline had seen him throw up in the yard, there was no way that she was going to allow him visitors, anyway. He isolated himself from Rodney, glaring at the sketches on the communal wall. He ripped each one off the wall, tearing them each in half. He heard footsteps and jolted upright. He was going to be caught by one of the faculty, who would prompty jot down on their charts that he was exhibiting violent behavior. To his relief, it was only Talia and Tiffany, who eyed him curiously. Talia cocked her head to the side, her blonde hair swaying as Tiffany joined him, tearing each paper to shreds in sync with him.

"Thank you," he mumbled to the floor, now covered with pencil marked paper bits, like an art student's confetti. Tiffany smiled weakly, tossing a feeble handful of what was left of his sketch at him teasingly.

"You shouldn't do this. They looked pretty, but I have the sense that you know what you want," her voice was hoarse but slightly confident before she returned into step with her roomate, who smiled approvingly.He wondered what he wanted, he was terribly confused if anything. He wanted to see Tina, and get rid of all of this drama, but he also felt as if he had wasted his life if he made that choice. What was the point in living, then?

~

Five identical trays clad with a vegetable blend, chicken breast, and barbecue sauce fell onto Newt's table. Rodney dropped himself onto the seat beside Newt, his weight so insignificant that he barely made a noise against the metal. The other boy with percing blue eyes flanked Newt on his other side, and he felt claustrophobic and anxious. He didn't get a chance to prepare himself for any social interaction right now. He was mentally and physically worn out; everything on his plate left untouched just like he been leaving meals all week. Visitations were tomorrow, but Mrs. Araline and the rest of his treatment team frowned on his recent "setbacks" and lectured him on his privilege being revoked.

 

"Hey, roomy," Rodney chucked warmly, taking a swig of his milk, drowned in unnecessarily fatty calories.

"Hey."

"We're having a get together tonight, we wanted to invite you, of course," Talia explained, spooning the last of her peas and corn into her mouth.

"It's a cabin thing," the black-haired boy added. Newt remembered that his name was Jay, but could not recall what his roomate's name was, and found it rude to ask at this point.

"I can't," Newt mumbled, watching the ice in his glass melt. "Thank you, though."

"Come on, Newt. It could be fun," Tiffany spoke up, most likely to avoid eye contact with Nurse Susan, who was shaking her head as Tiffany counted her vegetables hesitantly.

"We have vistations tomorrow, but only Talia gets to see her family. We should at least do something rather than wallow all night. Look, we even have a solid plan, Rodney's going to distract one of the nurses who locks the cabin doors at night, then we can slip out," Jay said.

Newt opened his mouth to politely decline again, but something clicked in his mind. This was his chance to finally be free. He no longer had to pitifully scheme a lousy escape plan himself, or force himself to scram his face to get back to the outside world. "Okay, I'm in."

~

"How are things?" Mrs. Araline prodded the morning of visitations, and more impotantly, the cabin get together. His last day. It was quite the joyous occasion.

"Good, I wish that I was getting allowed visitors, though." The trick was to act bummed out, to directly avert suspicion. Nobody who was looking foward to their happy, bright future and seeing their loved ones again would ever harm themselves.

"If you do better next month maybe," she closed his file and slid it into her bag. "You were doing exceptional before group therapy. Do you want to discuss that incident? We never got the chance."

"No."

"What would you like to talk about? Maybe the flashbacks to your childhood, or the more recent ones with the bloody man and your animal that attacked him? I believe that it would be beneficial to identify where your eating disorder stems from, which seems to be the guilt of the man's death and you feeling the need to be punished for it."

He chewed on the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, closing his eyes.

"What is happening right now, Newt? Describe how my analysis of what lead to your condition is doing to you this very moment."

"I...I need Tina. I need her so b-badly...I need to hold her...I need her to tell me that I'm not failing...I want her to be p-proud of me..." his voice wavered as he sucked in air. He was too weak to put on the tough guy front, his true emotions tearing through the plastic surface."I ruined everything, that poor man didn't have to die because of my stupid mistake, his p-poor family...."

"You will see her when you're ready. You still have a long way to go, Newt. This is all an important journey that you must embark on and reach the end on your own. I mean, you have me and the rest of the faculty and patients here on your side, but you need to keep pushing foward. Now is not the time to give up," she placed her hand over his and watched him calmly. "You need to think of what you need to say to her before you can see her."

~

"What about you, Newt?" All attention was on Newt, and anxiety prickled at him.

"I-I'm sorry, what was the question?" Twenty minutes. That's all. He'd waited two weeks for this. It felt like a year. In twenty minutes, one of the nurses would leave the door unlocked as a result of Rodney's distarction of complaining about needing sleeping aid.

"What lead to the first time that you had starved yourself?" Talia asked.

He swallowed hard. What an unfiltered and triggering question, but then again this unruly group all had their fair share of problems. He was the only one who had not told his story.

"When I was fourteen, I believe. My mum was angry at me for getting expelled from school, and punished me for little things by restricting my meals. Sometimes...I d-didn't even get anything to eat an entire week..." he confessed, raw emotion choking his will to find his voice. "I began restricting myself as well, only eating a quarter of the plate because I thought that she treated me like that b-because...."

"...because you weren't good enough for her," Tiffany finished for him meekly, tears rolling down her tanned cheeks.

Newt nodded, digging his nails into his palm. He knew that Tiffany was a victim of physical and verbal abuse from her parents, and felt awful for bringing his memory up. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"Newt, you were a victim of abuse, too. You may not see that now-----"

"No, I w-wasn't, really. I got what I fully deserved. She saw what no one else had the nerve to say to my face, I needed to be thinnner and better. I was a disappointment a-and....I just wa-wanted her to l-love me...." he was sobbing into his sleeve, and Rodney scooted beside him to rub his back wordlessly. A silence clung to the air as Talia consoled a trembling Tiffany and Jay sniffled to himself beside his nameless roomate.

Exactly fifteen minutes later, the group successfully crept through the cabin front door on Rodney's command. Excited whoops and hushed whispers to shut up erupted from the ecstatic group, buzzing and drunk on the fresh night air. Newt closed his eyes, the wind causing him to shiver. He would open the window a bit every night to get a cool breeze into his bedroom back then, the wind biting at his exposed flesh making him feel alive. He seperated from the group trudging with timid determination. His hands shook as he found his destination, the lake. The water appeared ominous and almost ink black in the darkness, the trees in the background looking like mishapen dementors. He slid his shoes off, setting a neatly folded piece of parchment beside them as he sunk into the water. It was cold. He closed his eyes for the last time, the icy sensation wrapping him up like a blanket of self loathing, just mind numbing enough to sooth his aching soul.

 

~  
Newt opened his eyes, the spinning walls of the room and blinding lights taking a full moment to register in his mind. He could make out shapes and colors only, the figure in front of him hauntingly familiar. Tina. His love.

"Tina..." he breathed weakly, his head heavy and mind groggy.

"It's me, Newt. I'm here."

She sounded so real...  
His eyes snapped open, and he was up in a flash. "Tina!" Dizziness took over and he fell back onto the uncomfortable bed with a soft groan.

"Don't sit up too fast, here," she raised a glass of ice water to his lips. He sat up, slowly this time, his clothes and hair still damp from last night's swim. Who had found him? Had that all been a dream? Must not have been, as his shoes were still gone, his socks dripping with lake water. He felt warm arms around him, and he closed his eyes. Tina was hugging him. Holding him the way that you held someone who had nearly slipped from your grasp.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," she whispered into the crook of his neck in between ragged sobs.

~  
Newt and Tina were sitting in seperate cahir beside eachother in Ms. Araline's office after breakfast. He had ate two mini sausages and gulped down his entire glass of orange juice.

"I thought that I didn't get to have visistors," Newt said, knowing that if they had called Tina upon finding him in the lake, she would not have arrived so early. Mrs. Araline must have called her beforehand. He had also learned that Rodney had been the one to call for help when he had disappeared, and had already expressed concern for his roommate's safety. He must had seen the bruises.

"Yes, you have been lacking on your meal progress lately, but you deserve a bit of relief, don't you think? It must have been a rough week for you to relapse on your bad habits like that. I called Tina here for a bit of encouragement, but..." her lips pursed tightly, and her expression changed to one of a stern, scolding mother. "What you did last night will not slide by without any reevaluations, am I clear? Sneaking into eachother's rooms past curfew and bed checks, only to sneak out is not to be taken lightly."

Newt nodded, his face burning up in embarassment like a child getting his bad behavior listed off in front of his parents. Tina sat there awkwardly, silent and unsure of what to say.

"Newt, I'm sure that there is something that you would like to say to Tina," Ms. Araline said, her kind expression replacing any anger that she may have had.He turned to Tina, his heart racing and threatening to break through his chest.

"T-Tina," he took a deep breath. The words tumbled out, and he knew that he couldn't stop them even if he had tried.

"My mother would starve me for days, even weeks for all of the years that I lived with her. She would punish me even when I didn't do anything wrong. It hurt. It hurt SO bad. I knew that she would never love me, and that she never truly did. She favored my other siblings, and neglected me unless I needed to be punished. I tried-----I tried so hard to surpress these bruied fears and memories of mine, but they all came to the surface when that man in New York died because of my forgetfulness. I saw the same frightened and worthless boy every time that I looked in the mirror, alone and unworthy of anything. I blame myself for what happened to that innocent man and how he died. I was so sure that I needed to starve myself in order to pay my respects to the man and punish myself, just like my mum taught me to do. I want to give this up, I really do. But it's killing me. I don't want to be a failure and give up when I set out to accomplish this long ago. This sickness inside of me has become me, and it won't leave. I just can't go on like this, Tina."

"You are not your illness, Newt," Tina reassured him, leaving her chair to kneel beside his. "Look at me," his eyes locked with hers and he waited patiently for her to continue. " You mean so very much to me, Newt. You are beautiful, funny, and brilliant. What happened to that man could not have been stopped, by your, or by anyone. You can still beat this, we can do this together, okay?"

 

He nodded, pearly tears falling from his lashes onto her skin. "I don't want to fail."

"You are not failing, Newt."

"I j-just want you to be proud of me..."

"I'm proud of you, Newt," she was blinked away tears as she pushed on. "Your mother was a cruel, heartless person who should have never had kids. You were abused, and you have to come to terms with that. She is not someone to chase acceptance from. You deserve so much more than this, honey. You deserve the world."

He felt his muscles relax after so long of being stiff and fragile as Tina held him for the second time that day. And for once, he did not defend his mother.

~

Newt saw Talia get discharged, then Jay, and Tiffany get her feeding tube removed as she began gaining the weight back right before his last day at Hidden Feather. Tina was there, helping him pack up his limited belongings when his hand felt something rough underneath his pillow. He pulled out a piece of paper, which appeared to have been ripped up in a fit of blind fury before being taped carefully back together. This was his favorite sketch, one that actually reminded him of a joyful time, him and Tina stargazing in Central Park, not a single worry in the world. He flipped it over, an ink message in curvie read:

Good luck on your travels, Newt. You are the better person that I aspire to become one day.

-Tiff

Newt placed it into his luggage, taking Tina's hand in his before stepping outside for the first time in months since his attempt by the lake. He reflected briefly on the short relationships that he had formed here, Rodney and Talia who were practically a siblings to him, and Tiffany, who looked up to him like a father. He wondered where his life would take him now, but he knew that as long as he had people who loved him, that he could fight the darkness away and find his stars.


End file.
